


The Task At Hand

by Shinaka



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Deepthroating, Fluff and Smut, French Kissing, Frottage, Intercrural Sex, Lust, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Spoilers, Oral Sex, Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Size Kink, Strength Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-12-28 03:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21129659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinaka/pseuds/Shinaka
Summary: [Based on Raphael and Ignatz's A support. Post-Timeskip.]Raphael begins modeling for Ignatz so his sister knows that he’s doing well as the war wears on.Unfortunately for Ignatz, this unlocks the epiphany that his childhood friend isveryeasy on the eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is gonna be two parts or three parts at most. I usually like writing stories with plot or character study, so taking a stab at what is my most PWP fic to date is... new

Ignatz’s pencil trembles on the canvas, marking a line across the shape of the man’s chest that he despairs at erasing cleanly.

“You okay there, Ignatz?” Raphael booms from across the room. “Is there something I can do to help?” His shirtless form shakes, but for a different reason from Ignatz; he has never been good at staying still for long periods of time.

“N-no,” Ignatz says, straining to keep his nervousness in but failing. “I-I mean, I’m fine, so I don’t need any help. B-but thanks.”

“Well, I can see you shaking from here.” The large man’s brow is furrowed. “Hey, I really appreciate you doing this for me, but if you’re not feeling good today –“

“Just let me focus, please,” Ignatz says, more sharply than he intended. Raphael frowns more deeply but settles for letting him be for now.

Taking a cue from Mercedes, he inhales and then exhales slowly to help his nerves – a cacophonous jumble reverberating in his chest – calm down. His trembling doesn’t subside entirely but he finds that he can better focus on erasing the stray line.

When he returns to sketching the rest of Raphael’s body though, Ignatz finds his mouth becoming dry and his heart beating violently once more.

What is before him is undeniable. During the five years they have been separated, his childhood friend had somehow not only grown taller but also brawnier than before. His pectorals and abdominals now look sculpted as if by the Goddess’ hand, and the way his biceps and forearms ripple as he flexes them makes heat pool in Ignatz’s groin that he struggles to will away. From top to bottom, Raphael is pure thick muscle that can easily overpower even a crowd of Imperial soldiers, and if his fantasies would have their way, then Ignatz himself as well.

But he is not supposed to be imagining Raphael undressing and then lifting him against a wall to use him. Or the man pinning his wrists and ankles to his bed with his body so Ignatz will be at his complete mercy. Or Raphael laving every inch of his naked body with his tongue, while murmuring sweetly into his skin here and there.

He is especially not supposed to become hard at any of these things _in his presence_. Ignatz has never been so glad for the fact that his easel conveniently hides his sitting form nor so mortified.

He is simply supposed to be drawing a portrait that will show how well Raphael has been getting along during the long months he has been away from his sister. Never mind the fact that his friend had asked specifically to be drawn shirtless. At night. In his room. Alone together.

But since it’s Raphael, the intimacy of this painting assignment is likely lost on him. And even if Ignatz won’t have him any other way, for him to continue biting his lip at impossible fantasies is to not only make this situation more horribly inappropriate but to also betray their friendship.

When he frames it in that light, it becomes easier to pick up his pencil and to continue drawing, even as his heart feels clasped in irons.

One line, then two, then more become an arm. He traces the arc of his back, the bend in one leg. He outlines his friend’s shaggy locks, his kind eyes, his nose, and his grin. When he catches himself staring for too long at Raphael’s arms, he forces himself back by imagining if Lysithea were to walk in and see him so pathetically dumbstruck.

(“Oh, Ignatz,” she would say, nose turned up in disgust. “Can’t you stop _mooning_ over him for a moment so you can get the job done? He wants a portrait, not your _drool!_”)

At last, he has the gesture sketch down, even if it had taken him far longer than normal. By this point, sweat is lining Raphael’s brow and Ignatz belatedly realizes that he has not apologized for snapping at him earlier.

“You can take a break now! I’m so sorry for speaking like that to you earlier, too!” He almost knocks down the easel rising from his stool. “Are you okay?”

The other man is gasping but waves off Ignatz’s offers of assistance when he comes close to him. “Just. Held. My Breath! For too long… Whew…” He gulps down an especially large intake of air and then breathes out slowly, expression becoming calmer as he does. “If you don’t mind, Ignatz, I don’t think I’m going to do _that_ again.”

“No, no, of course not,” he babbles in reply. “Were you trying to hold in your breath to stay still for longer? Please don’t do that again, that was a really long time you must have done that for.”

“Were you able to focus though?” Raphael walks over to the canvas. “Wow, that was worth it! I look great already and you haven’t even painted me yet."

If only his self-control had been better, Ignatz thinks. Now he’s gone and inconvenienced his friend and all he has to show for it is a sketch.

“Thanks but… I’m sorry that this is all I have so far.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. After all, we still have more nights for this!”

He can’t help but hang his head a little. More nights with Raphael being so close to the touch yet so far. He doesn’t know if he’s in heaven or in hell.

“Uh, yeah. You’re right,” he settles for saying. He doesn’t know how else he can respond.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, guess we need a part 3 after all, but I hope part 2 whets your appetite for the smut that's upcoming!

The next night goes better, only because Ignatz guiltily and quickly strokes himself off before going to Raphael’s room. Although he’s better able to focus, however, he can’t bring himself to meet Raphael’s eyes. They're supposed to be best friends; a best friend wouldn't masturbate to thoughts of slowly stripping the other and then being violated over and over as punishment. He is nothing but depraved, he keeps thinking, as he mixes pigments and layers paint over the sketch he had made. Worse than Sylvain, who at least makes his intentions known to those he hits on.

When Raphael comes over and marvels at the initial painting process though, Ignatz’s spirits rise a little. Compared to the day before, he has accomplished much more. Maybe he’ll be able to finish in the next few days and then he can go back to living life before he knew what his friend looked like beneath his shirt.

But come the fourth night, shame and the strain of having to repress his desires begin to take their toll on him.

Ignatz is only able to muster the energy to paint for half an hour before he has to mutter a half-truth about needing to go to bed earlier due to recent sleep woes. Raphael, for his part, doesn’t interrogate him. For that matter, he’s been awfully accommodating, even quiet, the past few days, which Ignatz has taken to be attempts at letting him focus on the portrait. Focus that he badly needs when he has such trouble even peeking at Raphael from the side of the easel for long. But when he turns to close his friend’s door, he notices sadness marring Raphael's features before the door clicks shut.

It’s the same sad look that he had back when Ignatz tried to avoid him all those years ago and it _stings_.

It isn’t his intention to hurt but hurt he does all the same. Also, ever since Raphael confronted Ignatz about his guilt over his parents’ deaths, hasn’t he sworn to never hurt his friend like that again? But here he is, letting his urges cow him until he can barely treat him like a friend.

Even if Ignatz cannot quite shake the anxiety that has dogged him since childhood, he knows that he cannot let this state of affairs stand. He is already lucky not to have lost Raphael already. He cannot stand the thought of possibly losing him now for real, and compared to the guilt that used to trail after him when he thought of how Raphael’s parents could have still lived, feeling guilt over his desires is much more trivial.

But even when days five and six come and go, he’s no more closer to a solution. He can’t seem to divert his urges elsewhere – Raphael and his well-built arms and chest keep appearing when he tries to imagine others – and he can’t keep coming up with excuses as to why he needs to duck into his room for ten, fifteen minutes at a time right before visiting him when obtaining his supplies only takes a fraction of that time. It’s not as if they have homework anymore that he can use as an easy pretense and Ignatz knows that he cannot lie to save his life.

When day seven arrives, Raphael finally comes out with it.

“What’s really going on, Ignatz? I thought all you needed was quiet time to focus on painting me but that’s not really it, is it?” 

He tries – he really does – to look him in the eye. Because Raphael deserves that much at least, even if Ignatz doesn’t really know what to say.

No, that’s wrong. He _does_ know what to say and he _does_ know what the solution to this terrible awkwardness and silence is now.

It is to confess.

And it terrifies him like nothing else. 

Is a moment of unburdening worth the consequences? What if Raphael no longer wants to be his friend or to even associate with him? Even sugarcoating the truth, saying, “I’m sorry for being so distracted, it’s just that I’ve been thinking about you,” is leagues more revealing than what Ignatz wants. Making himself vulnerable only to be potentially rejected and shunned… The thought of it causes his throat to tighten and his breathing to come out in shallow gasps.

Which Raphael notices, and even though he’s confused and probably more than a little upset at him, he still takes the time to ask, “Are you okay? Because if you’re going through something, you can tell me. I’m _always_ here for you.”

Ignatz’s heart aches. Even then he still can’t force any words past his lips and all he can do is lamely stare at the floor.

“Did… _I_ do something?” In his peripheral vision, he can see him wringing his large hands. “Was this something you didn’t want to do?”

“...No.” Ignatz finally manages.

“Then how come,” Raphael says, words verging on a sob, “You look and sound normal with everybody else, but then when you come here, you can barely talk or look at me anymore?”

“I…”

Ignatz had just arrived at his friend’s room when Raphael began asking him about his recent change in behavior, so he hasn’t gotten a chance to sit down on his stool to paint. So when Raphael comes closer and closer still, Ignatz finds himself backing up until his body and Raphael’s hand hit the door, pinning him there.

“Look at me,” he says, a broken command but a command still, and Ignatz can’t help but follow.

To his immense shame, he finds himself hardening, so much does real life resemble one of his tawdry fantasies. 

“I promise I won’t get mad. Anything you have to say, I’ll listen,” he says. Ignatz can feel his breath tickle his hair and cheeks, and Raphael's earnest expression and voice quicken his pulse, make his member twitch even more. “Trust me. So _please_.”

He wants his friend to no longer be sad. He wants to tell him the truth. He wants him to know that he does trust him. He wants to not be afraid.

But mostly, he wants _him_.

“Please kiss me.”

Raphael’s eyes widen. “Wait, what – “

“Please,” he says again before he can lose his nerve, even if he is sorry to interrupt his dear friend. “Please please please!” He closes his eyes at the end of his plea.

Now it is out there and Raphael is free to reject him kindly, and they can go back to –

Warm hands that are large enough to span his whole face embrace his cheeks. Before he can open his eyes and wonder at what’s happening, his lips are met with a messy but luscious _kiss_.

He wishes he can compare the feeling to something as sublime as the Goddess’ blessings but all he can think of truthfully is getting _more_.

Ignatz reaches for Raphael’s face, slides his hands across the blond curls on the sides and then down the scratchy stubble closer to his chin. He presses back as hard as he can against him, opens his mouth so Raphael can get the message and start exploring it with his tongue. When he doesn’t, Ignatz decides to take the initiative and thrusts his tongue into Raphael’s mouth, licks and sucks on his tongue until Raphael yearns to do the same to his.

Even when his breath grows short, Ignatz doesn’t want to let go. If Raphael’s strong hands holding his face and his licking and probing the inside of Ignatz's mouth feels _this_ good, the smaller man wants to keep going until he possibly can’t anymore.

When they’re forced to separate at last, strands of saliva still connecting their mouths, Ignatz flushes at the look Raphael is giving him.

His eyes are wide but focused solely on the man before him. It’s a look of intense concentration coupled with the desire to tear the clothes off Ignatz and use him as hard as he wants. And it’s absolutely the look Ignatz has always wanted to see, has cum to multiple times dreaming about it, but has never thought he would actually get.

“Was _that_ what’s been on your mind the past bunch of days?” Raphael asks after reclaiming his breath.

“G-Goddess, yes!” He says, all but keening. He’s already abandoned all pretense of dignity once he practically begged him for a kiss.

A smile, boyish yet full of lust, appears on Raphael’s face. “Then I wish you really had told me sooner! I really thought I did something wrong to you and I was too stupid to figure it out.”

Ignatz shakes his head as hard as he can between his friend’s hands. “N-no! You did nothing wrong at all! It was all me just – I really wanted you but I didn’t want you to hate me, so I just! I didn’t know what to do!”

“Does it look like I hate you?”

Ignatz takes in his face again and then peeks down.

_Oh._

His mouth begins to water, and even more so once Raphael catches where Ignatz is looking at and _smirks_.

“If you want to, you can definitely play with it,” he says, dropping into a low voice that makes Ignatz shiver deliciously. “But let’s go to my bed, okay? Right here isn’t that comfortable.”

His heart is singing, and when he’s picked up – his face nestled against the sculpted planes of Raphael’s chest – and then carried to the bed, the dirty part of Ignatz’s mind begins running furiously through all the fantasies he can finally indulge in.

He will not leave until Raphael uses every bit of him he can.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignatz finally gets what he wants (and maybe more)?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really should sleep instead of writing smut late at night like the dumbass I am

As soon as Raphael lets go of him on his bed, Ignatz immediately sets to work getting rid of his clothes. The quicker his bare skin can slide against Raphael’s, the more real this would all feel.

He still can’t believe it even when his friend starts to help him unclasp his cape and unbutton his tunic. How can he possibly be blessed with not only such a caring and kind best friend but also one that is so handsome – not to mention, _big_ in all the right ways – and willing to bed him? Surely the goddess should have stinted more, saved her blessings for more worthy individuals?

Such thoughts begin to disperse as Raphael undoes his belt and sash, the hungry look in his eyes causing Ignatz’s spine to tingle and gooseflesh to rise. When Ignatz finally pulls his jacket and tunic off, enthusiastic open-mouthed kisses up and down his chest banish all thoughts of the goddess once and for all.

“You look so good,” Raphael mumbles in between lapping up his bare skin. When he grabs ahold of his waist to help support himself, the archer can only moan at the power of his grip and buck against his hands.

A bit more pressure and bruises would surely blossom all over him, but rather than feeling fear, Ignatz wants only to dance more on the knife-edge of his friend’s overwhelming strength. 

When Raphael reaches his nipples, he licks one gently, swirling his tongue against the nub with reverence, one hand moving to the other one to pinch it. Ignatz’s certain that he’s staining his pants with precum, but he can’t raise an objection to such a heavenly sensation for such mundane matters. Moments later, he can’t think at all – light licking becomes thorough sucking that makes him throw his head back and moan loudly. When Raphael accompanies the broad swipes of his tongue with his thumb rubbing circles on the nipple not in his mouth, Ignatz almost squirms out of his hold completely. Only the sweet resistance of his friend’s hands against his hipbones keep him from escaping entirely. 

“Ah, Raphael! I’m – “

A particularly hard suck drives all the words out of his mouth.

Right before his nipples can become sore, Raphael stops, letting him come up for air.

“Y-you… By the goddess, that was _good_,” Ignatz says once he recovers a little. He reaches up for Raphael’s face and he obliges by resting his cheek against the archer's hand. 

“I’m glad,” Raphael says. “You’re just… You’re really beautiful, all right!” Even when his voice is now a husky murmur suffused by desire, his simple earnestness still shines through, warming Ignatz’s heart even through a lust-filled mental haze. “I didn’t think I would ever get a chance to do this with you. But are you sure you want to keep going?”

Ignatz almost chokes up with fear. Goddess, _no_, he has no intention of stopping but what if Raphael doesn’t really want this as much as he does?

His fears are immediately laid to rest with what he says next.

“Because if you don’t want to stop now, then I really think it’ll be hard for me to uh, control myself…” Raphael turns away, cheeks and neck reddening. 

The things that line does to Ignatz’s heart and cock… He swallows thickly.

“No, Raphael, I don’t want to stop at all. And in fact...” Ignatz finds himself being more daring than he’s ever been in his life. “Please do _more_ to me. Pin me down, make me feel how big and strong you are,” he says, stroking the line of the other man’s chin. He manages to not break eye contact, and even feels more confident and sure in his needs afterwards.

Strange how lust can make him say things he normally would balk at. What a balm for anxiety. 

Raphael’s brow furrows. “But what if I hurt you, Ignatz? I know you can handle yourself in battle, but I’m much bigger than you.” He looks down at himself, drawing Ignatz’s eyes toward his chest, only the source of all of those fantasies that have led both of them here.

At the moment, a slight sheen of sweat covers his bulging pectorals and abdominals, each perfectly cut thanks to his friend’s training. He realizes he hasn’t gotten to touch them just yet, something he needs to correct right away.

So he lays his free hand on top of Raphael's heart and drags his fingers down that expanse of taut muscle and curly hair. 

“Ah,” Raphael lets out. “That tickles a bit!” But he permits the caress to continue, watches as both of Ignatz’s hands begin to travel up and down his chest and after a moment’s beat, up and down his well-defined arms too.

Under his fingertips, Ignatz paints anew. The hard planes of his bulk, his thick waist, arms that tighten when he squeezes them hard. Light brown nipples that when touched, evoke a low guttural moan and make golden eyes flash with a dark promise. The expanse of a wide firm back that he needs to cling onto when Raphael grabs him again and grinds against the tent in his pants. 

And when he stops suddenly, unsure, not wanting to push against boundaries without a clear statement from Ignatz, the artist paints the width of those broad shoulders.

“You don’t have to worry about me at all.” He squeezes Raphael affectionately before slipping his hands down to the waistband of his pants, ready to get rid of them once and for all tonight. “Just now, you stopped even though I… provoked you, because you cared. We might be having sex tonight for the first time but that won’t change the fact that you’re just a good person, Raphael.”

His friend looks as if he’s on the verge of tears. “Ignatz, you’re so good to me –“

He immediately falls silent, when in one fell swoop, Ignatz's pants and underwear come off and are tossed to the side of the room. Ignatz is now completely exposed, with all the vulnerability that that comes with. Suddenly his anxiety comes roaring back, starting with whether he’s too slender for Raphael’s taste, or whether his cock, still leaking precum, is too small, and then moving on to whether Raphael will even like fucking him at all, until Ignatz finds himself pushed down onto the mattress.

“You look _amazing_,” Raphael growls into his ear and then all those worries fly out of the window.

“Then use me!” Ignatz begs.

Raphael’s head descends immediately to between his legs and suddenly Ignatz feels a delicious wet heat around his cock, up to the hilt. Then he sucks ravenously on his member, tongue enthusiastically painting stripes up and down and then all around the sides of his cock until Ignatz finds himself seeing stars. 

At some point, Raphael’s hands have crept down his lower back in order to palm his ass. Feeling each hand cover each buttock and then some causes Ignatz to grind against him – in how many ways is Raphael bigger than him and can he ever get enough of how differently the goddess made the two of them? On a particularly strong thrust downward with his mouth, he squeezes his ass until Ignatz is sure that there’ll be marks left and then lifts him up so he can suck him at an angle that leaves him drooling.

Heat builds and builds at his core and Ignatz knows that if Raphael keeps this up, he won’t last much longer. 

“Ahh, Raphael!” His hand reaches out to grab any part of the large man, to have him slow down but as if on cue, the intense pressure on his cock eases. Ignatz's length is still in Raphael’s mouth, but he is tenderly licking the underside instead, fending off the oncoming wave of euphoria for now. 

But as he takes in the view of his best friend lovingly caressing his member with his tongue, hands now resting on his inner thighs, Ignatz realizes with near horror that Raphael is still partly dressed.

“I’m so sorry! You’ve been so busy making me feel good that I forgot about doing the same for you!” He covers his face in his hands out of shame and embarrassment.

Slowly Raphael pulls his mouth off of Ignatz’s cock, the tip of his tongue playfully laving the head of his member before coming off it completely. “Hey, take it easy, Ig, that was something I really wanted to do. Do you know that it really turns me on when I get to see you enjoy yourself like that?”

He certainly looks happy, Ignatz can see from between his fingers. Raphael is smiling widely, even though his cheeks are flushed pink and his lips wet from the effort of sucking on him. He can’t help but flush in return, now aware of the effect he had been having on the other man. 

“But don’t you want to uh, take off the rest of your clothes?” 

Just like Ignatz earlier, a wet stain marks the large tent in Raphael’s pants.

He looks down at himself and then back at Ignatz. 

“Oh yeah,” he sheepishly says.

And just like that, the shame melts away, replaced by fondness and another emotion that Ignatz is not yet ready to name. Even though they may have ruined any semblance of a normal friendship between them with tonight’s actions, Raphael will always be Raphael.

“Would you mind… taking them off? So I can help you and see more of you?” 

Raphael's smile is large and infectious. “When you ask like that, why not?"

One quick pull down and Raphael’s pants join a growing pile of clothes to the side. Then Ignatz is suddenly face-to-face with the largest member he’s ever seen, thick, dusky pink, and with a prominent vein bulging along the underside. It’s everything that he’s been fantasizing about but even better. Even though he knows he can’t have it in his ass today – Ignatz really didn’t expect sex tonight after all – he still wants it any way he can. In his hands, inside his mouth, between his thighs. 

In moments, he finds himself messily laving the vein with his tongue, both hands massaging the shaft below his mouth.

“Ah! Ignatz –“

It’s going to be a challenge fitting his cock into his mouth, so Ignatz works up to it, just like he would work up to the challenge of painting a subject in particularly complex lighting. As his tongue and hands sweep up and down his cock, and then more and more frequently, down to Raphael's balls as well, Ignatz familiarizes himself with the contours of his object of obsession, thinks about the angles his mouth would need to adjust to. Meanwhile, he has to contend with his subject squirming and moaning his name above his head, attempting to distract him from the task at hand.

Needless to say, this is not an orthodox painting assignment and he has neither the experience nor the focus he would normally have. But at long last, Ignatz’s mouth is on the tip of his friend’s cock, Raphael looking down at him as if he wants to simply push down his head and have his way once and for all. But Raphael is not a boor despite what many might think – he might have a head mostly focused on food and training but he would never take advantage.

No matter how much Ignatz might want him to. But that is something they can talk about another time.

“Please, I didn’t know you can be such a tease! Won’t you just –“

He takes in as much as he can but he’s still only halfway down his cock. His lips are straining around its girth and he’s drooling all over him, which gives Ignatz a twinge of embarrassment. Then he feels Raphael’s hand tangle itself in his hair, and even though he won’t pull, just the thought that _he might_ gives Ignatz the motivation to go further.

Raphael’s voice is keening as he plays with his hair. “Your mouth feels so good… Is it too big for you? You look so cute trying to take me in.” Goddess, what he would give to keep hearing Raphael of all people say such crude things to him. “Yes, keep going if you can!"

Ignatz hums against his cock as his mouth sinks lower and lower, until the head touches the back of his throat. Although he can’t help but gag seconds later and has to pull out, he’s still absurdly proud that he was able to take in such a massive member on his first try.

“You okay?” Raphael instantly switches from lust to worry, making the artist feel warm for reasons completely unrelated to sex.

“...You’re so big,” Ignatz can’t help but say with awe, wiping saliva from his lips and chin. “Not just down there, but everywhere. I _really_ like how you look, Raphael."

The other man reddens. “When I started working out more, I was hoping it would impress you but I didn’t know you would like it _this_ much.”

Although his mind’s hazy with desire, Ignatz is still able to recognize the implications of what he said. “Wait, that was a long –"

“Look, I like you a lot! Have for a long time! But I honestly didn’t think – I should have told you _before_ we started this, I really messed up!"

Before Raphael can descend into further self-recrimination though, Ignatz reaches out and holds his hands.

“No, you didn’t. Remember, I was the one who started this. So, don’t feel guilty, please.”

Squeezing his hands, Ignatz continues. “To be honest, I only started thinking about you in a new light after we reunited.” He notes how Raphael’s face droops and Ignatz squeezes his hands again. "You were my big, strong best friend before the war. But then when we came together again… I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since.”

He takes a moment to collect his words then because he wants to make sure he is being absolutely clear for this next part.

“I don’t know if I like you in the same way you like me yet. But I do know I have always loved how kind, considerate, and powerful you were. That won’t ever change. And I do know that I would like to be more than friends from now on. Not just for sex. More than that.”

He leans down to lay a soft kiss upon Raphael’s hand. “Please.”

The other man stares at him without a word. 

Just when Ignatz thinks he might have made a mistake, that he might have overstepped his boundaries, that maybe Raphael didn’t quite want a relationship yet, he is enveloped into a tight hug.

“_Yes_,” Raphael says. Ignatz can feel tears drop onto the top of his head. “I want to be with you!”

“Raphael…” Even if his feelings toward him are still ill-defined and beg later analysis in the privacy of his room, Ignatz is the most happy he’s ever been. Against Raphael’s chest, he trails kisses, sweet and lingering, amongst blond curls. To his satisfaction, his friend sighs in content.

“Pick up where we left off?”

Ignatz responds by enclosing a nipple in his mouth.

“So needy.” Raphael chuckles. All of the sudden, he takes Ignatz’s shoulders and then lightly pushes him back down on the bed. 

“Aw, Raphael…” But when he sees the intent in those golden eyes, he feels precum start to run from his cock again.

“You know, it’s really hot when you say things like ‘use me’, Ig. So tell me how you want me to do that.”

“I…” Ignatz swallows thickly. It is so difficult to get his bearings when Raphael’s voice drops into that low, rumbling range, and it is even more so when he places his hands on either side of Ignatz’s shoulders so his body can loom above him. 

But he also wants a few fantasies to come true so, so badly.

“I want you to use your cock between my legs,” Ignatz starts, trying not to squeeze his eyes shut out of embarrassment. “I want you to keep, uh, riding me until I feel sore there.”

Raphael is breathing heavily. “Is that so?” He asks. One of his hands is snaking down Ignatz’s side, down, down to his member. He thumbs the slit, slick with precum, making Ignatz gasp, before bringing his thumb to his mouth to lick it.

Ignatz is unbelievably hard.

“T-Then I also want you to rub your cock against mine.” He eyes Raphael’s cock, heavy and leaking, trailing a line against Ignatz’s thigh. "Mine is so small compared to yours and I want to see and feel how different they are.”

It’s Raphael’s turn to swallow at his words. “I w-want that, too."

When he gets off the bed then, leaving Ignatz bereft of contact, however, the artist becomes confused. What can Raphael possibly be doing that requires him to leave him _now_?

But when Raphael takes out a container, filled with clear liquid, from a drawer, understanding dawns on Ignatz.

On his return, the large man uncorks the top and pours the oil directly onto his member. As Ignatz watches, mesmerized, Raphael begins to rub the oil up and down his cock, until it is entirely covered in the liquid.

“Where did you…“ He’s too stupefied to finish his question.

“From the marketplace.” Raphael struggles to make eye contact. Endearing, considering how he is about to fuck Ignatz’s thighs. “I, uh, like to use this when I think about you.”

“Can you… show me?”

He blinks at the question. “Show you what?”

Ignatz pushes through his words. “Show me what you like to do… when you think of me?”

His eyes widen. “Oh!” Then, “_Yes_, I will_._”

Placing his cock between Ignatz’s legs, Raphael sets a slow rhythm to start. Nevertheless, it’s electrifying to Ignatz, feeling his friend’s member thrusting between the sensitive skin of his thighs, igniting the nerves there and sending tremors up his spine. Even though his legs struggle to close around his cock, his friend doesn’t seem to mind, still drawing pleasure from rubbing against him. Raphael’s large hands gripping the outside of his legs also remind him of just how much he is at the mercy of a much bigger and stronger man, which makes him start panting.

“You feel _great_,” Raphael gasps. Ignatz can only moan in response.

Raphael's pace begins to quicken while his control weakens. Ignatz’s body starts to partly come off the bed with the force of his thrusting, and Raphael’s grip on his legs begin to tighten. Maybe enough to leave marks, he hopes. The blank canvas of his skin desperately needs them.

Ignatz’s legs become slick from the oil and precum on Raphael’s cock, and his own cock is weeping on his stomach. Pressure builds in his balls and in the base of his cock, and he knows that he’ll be coming soon if this continues. From the way Raphael sounds – voice becoming more and more guttural, fewer coherent words – he’s also close.

But he doesn’t want to cum untouched. He wants to cum with Raphael’s member rubbing against his. 

“Raphael, please! I want your cock on mine!”

It takes a moment for the words to register but Raphael does stop. “I don’t think I can last much longer,” he mumbles, and the way he looks at Ignatz with both lust and adoration fills Ignatz with tenderness.

“Me either, but I’ll make this feel really good for us,” Ignatz says. “You deserve it,” and in those words, he hopes he can convey all the appreciation and affection he feels.

Luckily Raphael had left the bottle of oil on the bed near Ignatz’s left hand, allowing him to pour some on his hand so he can spread it on both of their cocks. As he rubs his cock, a quick up-and-down motion so he can move on quickly to Raphael, Ignatz catches his friend licking his lips at him, his hand already moving up and down his shaft. 

He feels at once intimidated by his desire and overwhelmingly turned on.

As soon as Ignatz rubs the oil onto Raphael’s cock, the larger man hisses from the cold of the liquid and then guides his hand along his shaft. With Raphael’s help, Ignatz’s small hand is able to spread oil all over his cock as thoroughly as possible.

“Your hand is so soft and warm,” Raphael says breathlessly. Ignatz nods, blushing.

Then finally their cocks touch.

His cock is easily dwarfed by the size of Raphael’s, but what should have been humiliation is instead transmuted into admiration and _need_. Of course, his cock is smaller – it’s because Raphael is so big, and big men are going to have bigger members. Bigger members that they can use to ravish smaller men like him. 

Ignatz begins to use both of his hands to rub their cocks together. As they slide against each other, the direct stimulation is enough to make him scream.

“Ignatz, you feel so good!” Raphael’s voice booms in his room. In the far reaches of his mind, Ignatz thinks briefly of the possibility of being overheard by Linhardt next door before discarding that thought along with the rest of his rational mind.

Faster and faster Ignatz and Raphael grind their cocks together. At some point, Raphael’s hand also wraps around their members, a powerful grip that allows Ignatz’s cock to rub even harder against Raphael’s. His nerves tingle and fire with such pleasure that it makes his fingers scrabble for purchase on the bed and his toes curl into the blankets. 

And from within, Ignatz can feel the wave come, rise to its highest, and –

“Ahh!” He finds himself tilting his head back to scream.

Spurts of hot cum spill from his cock and onto his hands, stomach, and Raphael’s cock. He’s seeing stars and Raphael at the same time and his entire body now feels both weightless and weighed down by his friend.

“You came for me,” Raphael murmurs, eyes wide with desire. “Oh, Ignatz!"

Then moments after, Raphael leans down and moans, before he releases himself, spraying more cum onto Ignatz’s body. Then he slumps down on his side into the gap between Ignatz and the wall.

“Are you okay, Raphael?” Ignatz turns to him.

“Ig… That was awesome,” Raphael slurs. His eyes are closing as if he’s about to sleep.

“By the goddess, it _was,_” Ignatz breathes. “We should do that again sometime.”

“I agree…” A few seconds later, he is snoring.

Even though Ignatz’s now left with a mess all over his body, he finds that he can’t really care too much about it. In the face of afterglow, his anxiety cannot find purchase. Instead, he settles for snuggling next to Raphael on the bed – sex is really more tiring than he thought it would be – and leaving everything else for tomorrow. 

_I think I really do like you a lot, too._

* * *

In his room, Linhardt stares at the ceiling, wide awake.

From now on, he is going to take his post-dinner naps in Caspar’s room.


End file.
